


Grumpypants Smoochyface

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, Elves are Dicks, Gen, Humor, Young Dwalin, Young Tauriel, elves vs dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His cuteness may occassionally have gotten Dwalin additional cookies, but at some point, dwarves would rather be fierce warriors than adorable. If only certain elves were able to accept that....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grumpypants Smoochyface

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/7346.html?thread=16724402#t16724402) on the hobbit kink meme, but it kind of ran away with me and became something different.

“Why me?” Dwalin pouted and crossed his arms.

Embla ruffled her son’s hair. “While Balin has been teaching her a few things about our history and fighting style, he can’t stay away from his own studies forever. Besides, she seems to be about your age, as far as I can compare it at all. Balin says she’s nice. I’m sure you’ll have fun together.”

“But she’s an elf! And a girl. Why don’t Thorin, Frerin or Dís have to play with her?”

“They have to be at King Thror’s court, you know that. I don’t envy them, having to stand around all day smiling and being bored. Would you really want to change places with them?”

Dwalin shuddered and shook his head. When Thorin finally got away in the evenings, he always complained about the uncomfortable ceremonial garb he had to wear. Hulda wouldn’t even let her children have kicking matches under the table during meal times while the elven delegation was there. Dwalin was sure he’d die of boredom if he had to switch places with Thorin.

Embla smiled. “You see, I don’t think spending the day with the Elvenking’s ward is all that horrible in comparison. You know what? I’ll get you permission to use the sparring hall with her if you spend time with her. Balin says she’s quite good and even beat him quite a few times.”

Dwalin scoffed but weighed the opportunity to use the sparring hall like the old warriors against being burdened with a stupid elf-girl. 

“Fine. But only if Adad also makes me a real axe. I’m not a little baby anymore who can only fight with a wooden axe.”

His mother nodded. “Alright. If you are nice to her, I’ll make sure it is the first thing he forges when the delegation leaves.”

 

They met with the elves in front of the throne hall. Embla bowed at the prince and the elf-girl and greeted them.

“Prince Legolas, Lady Tauriel, this is my son Dwalin. I am certain you will get along well together, Lady Tauriel. Balin tells me you have quite a penchant for sparring, as does Dwalin.”

The elves smiled politely and Embla ruffled Dwalin’s hair. “Remember, be nice,” she whispered before heading into the throne hall.

Dwalin scowled and looked at the elves. Unnaturally tall things they were, just like Thorin had said, even though the smaller one still had the face of a little child. They also looked as though they had never eaten a good meal in their lives. The tall blond one seemed amused.  
The other one was scrutinizing Dwalin with an unreadable expression. She was at least two heads shorter than the prince. Her hair wouldn’t have looked out of place on a dwarf, if only it hadn’t been so unsettlingly smooth.

“Well, have fun with the dwarf,” Legolas said with a smirk.

Dwalin bristled at his tone, but Legolas was already ducking away from the punch Tauriel had aimed at his arm.  
As Legolas went into the throne hall, Tauriel looked at Dwalin again. After another moment of scrutinising, she grinned and walked over to him.

“You’re actually kind of cute, at least for a dwarf.” 

“Dwarves are strong warriors, not cute!”

Her grin grew wider and Dwalin gritted his teeth. This was going worse than he had expected already.

“Oh, but you are!” Tauriel leaned down towards him. “Just look at your bright blue eyes and chubby little cheeks!”

She would not... not even his great-aunt Sif dared to pinch his cheek anymore... but apparently great-aunts had nothing on horrible elf-girls. To complete the insult, she messed up his hair.

“Aww, Grumpypants has such a lovely little smoochyface!”

“My name is Dwalin and I’m neither cute nor lovely!”

“If you say so, Grumpypants Smoochyface. Oh, I know just what we can do!”

Tauriel grabbed Dwalin’s arm and pulled him after her, heading towards the road exiting the mountain.

“But my parents arranged for us to use the sparring halls! They are the other way!” Dwalin protested. 

“I know,” Tauriel replied. “I just have a better idea.”

She kept pulled him towards the gates. Dwalin gave up on further protest and followed her, nodding at the guards as they passed through.

 

At first, they followed the road towards Dale but then Tauriel turned onto a small path leading into the forest.

“You’re not taking me back to Mirkwood?” Dwalin asked, glancing back at the road.

Tauriel laughed. “No, don’t worry. This would be entirely the wrong direction anyway. We’d have to follow the road through Dale for that. Legolas, moss-brained prince though he might be, showed me this path the other day and I found something I thought I’d share with you.”

She gave him her unnerving grin again. Dwalin repressed a shudder, but perhaps that was just the way elves smiled. Thorin had complained about the Elvenking’s condescending smirk often enough. Maybe elves really were incapable of a normal, genuine smile.  
Besides, being friendly to this particular elf would get him one step closer to becoming a real warrior. So Dwalin smiled in return.

“Is it a patch of wild strawberries? Balin showed me one nearby last year. Perhaps they are ripe already.”

As Tauriel looked at him, Dwalin had the horrible feeling she was taking close notice of the dimples that still shone through his sparse beard. Even Balin had once said they were adorable. Dwalin quickly trained his face into a neutral expression again. His dimples may have gotten him additional cookies on more than one occasion but there was no telling what this elf might do or say. After all, she had already called him cute and pinched his cheeks. He did not need a repeat of that.

This time, Tauriel just shook her head and Dwalin breathed a sigh of relief.  
“No, something much better. You’ll just have to wait and see. But maybe we can check for strawberries on the way back.”

Dwalin nodded. “Alright.”

Tauriel had let go of Dwalin’s hand by now and skipped ahead a bit. Dwalin trudged behind, trying to crane his head to see where they were going without her noticing what he was doing. 

 

After a while, the came to a small clearing covered in grass and wildflowers. Tauriel stopped and beamed at him. Dwalin looked around again, hoping to see something he had overlooked the first time. There were only flowers, grass and trees.

“Is this it?”

She nodded. “Not bad, is it?” Her grin was a bit too wide.

Dwalin cursed inwardly. Elves and their ridiculous love for flowers and other green things.

“It’s quite… nice, I suppose,” Dwalin said hesitantly. After all, he had to keep the elf entertained if he wanted to get an axe.

With an even wider grin, Tauriel leaped through the meadow, plucking flowers and sniffing at bits of green. Dwalin watched her doubtfully. Surely, she wouldn’t expect him to start prancing about as well?

To his relief, Tauriel seemed content to show him flowers and weeds once in a while.

“Look, I found some peppermint!” She crushed a leaf right under his nose and Dwalin tried not to flinch back. The stuff smelt like the tea Healer Sigrun gave him when he had an upset stomach.

After a while, Dwalin realized Tauriel didn’t intend to leave any time soon. He made his way to the other side of the clearing, glaring at the green things covering the ground. He sat down on one of the rocks there.  
At least the sun was shining and the insects seemed too intent on the flowers to bother him. A small stream, which was probably the one that joined the River Running shortly before Dale, gurgled on nearby. The sounds made Dwalin sleepy and he leaned back against one of the larger rocks. The sun tickled his nose.

Dwalin gradually woke to the feeling of something gently tugging at his hair. His eyes still heavy with sleep, he blinked. Tauriel’s toothy grin greeted him. She held several neatly separated strands of his hair and a bright red flower in her hands.

“What are you doing?!” Dwalin asked, trying to pull away.

“Don’t move or you’ll make a mess of your new braids.” Her hands wove through the strands at a steady pace, creating what Dwalin realised must be horribly elvish braids. 

“But you can’t just... Are you putting _flowers_ in my hair?!”

“What did you think all those flowers were for? Despite what you dwarves think, we don’t eat flowers. Now shush, Grumpypants Smoochyface, after all, you’ll only get that axe if you are nice to me.”

Dwalin got treated to that too wide grin again and finally realised that he should have run the first time he had seen it. Still, there was that axe to consider....

So Dwalin sat still, his hands clenched and all his muscles tense. There was little he wouldn’t endure to finally have his own weapon. 

A familiar smell rose into his nose and he twitched. 

“You’re not putting that pepperweed into my hair, are you? Why don’t you... I’m sure that purple flower there would look great with the pink one you just added in. Why don’t you use that one instead?”

Tauriel laughed. “No, I think I’ll stick with the peppermint. That way, there’ll be at least one nicely smelling dwarf.”

After that, Dwalin sat in silence as flowers and smelly bits of green were worked into his hair. He turned when Tauriel told him to and glared at the trees and plants. It was a good thing he knew plenty of rarely frequented paths in the mountain so he could at least avoid being seen by too many dwarves in this state. And he would soon have an axe to call his own.

Finally, Tauriel proclaimed his braids to be finished. At her command, Dwalin got up and turned.

“Lovely! I’ve wanted to braid a dwarf a flower-herb-wreath ever since I arrived in Erebor. Now if only you’d smile.”

Dwalin painfully pulled the corners of his mouth up into something between a smile and a grimace.

Tauriel laughed. “Perfect!”

 

The way back was torture. Dwalin twitched at every sound, always expecting someone to come around the next corner and complete his humiliation. 

His ears burned as they approached the guards at the entrance of Erebor. 

“I think I forgot something on that clearing... You go ahead, I just need to go and get it...”

“No, you are coming with me. Otherwise, you might get your hair snagged in branches and lose the flowers in it.” Tauriel smiled at him in a way that told him she knew exactly what he was planning to do. 

Dwalin had no choice but to continue following Tauriel with flowers in his braids and reeking of weeds. He hoped that the guards would be asleep like they had been when he had nicked some of their cookies recently, but of course, he had no such luck. His father’s friend Eiki spotted him, rubbed his eyes and then waved his colleague Vígdís out of the guard house. 

“I trust you had fun with your new friend?” Eiki asked, grinning widely.

The burning sensation in Dwalin’s ears spread all over his face and he mumbled something in reply, trying to hurry past them as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand that,” Eiki answered. “I’m afraid I can’t let you back into Erebor if you don’t answer our questions. Our controls have been intensified since our cookies keep going missing.”

“Yes, I had a wonderful day with our guest,” Dwalin ground out through his teeth, deciding it was better to just ignore the bit about the missing cookies.

“I think the elf-decoration suits him,” Vígdís said, pinching Dwalin’s cheeks. “I never thought I’d ever say this, but it actually makes him even cuter.”

“I. Am. Not. Cute!” Dwalin exclaimed.

There was an upset gasp next to him and Dwalin turned to see Tauriel standing there with her lower lip trembling and her eyes suspiciously moist. 

“Are you saying you don’t like my work of art?”

“Careful now,” Vígdís said laughing. “Or you might upset your elf lady. I hear you will only get that axe if you are nice to her.” 

Dwalin swallowed. “I’m sorry, Lady Tauriel. I do like it, but it still doesn’t make me cute!”

She grinned at him, consoled rather too quickly to have really been upset. “If you say so.”

The guards grinned. “Looks like Fundin needs to be careful not to get an elf as his daughter-in-law, the way Dwalin is wrapped around her finger.”

Dwalin scowled but said nothing. He did not want to risk his axe, not after everything he had been through for it already. 

“You look far too lovely to be the cookie thief we are looking for,” Vígdís decided. “Go on, and tell your father he still owes us a round of ale from that last bet.”

Dwalin nodded and hurried on.

“They were nice,” Tauriel said, “although I never thought I’d be saying that about dwarves. Do you suppose we could go back some time and try to get some of those cookies? They must really taste good if they are worth stealing.”

“No. Didn’t you hear them? They are looking for whoever stole those cookies. Trying to steal some now would be an awful idea. They would catch us immediately.”

“Who said anything about stealing? You just need to try to look extra cute and I’m sure that that one guard would be happy to just give us some.”

“No. That’s not happening. You underestimate them. Anyway, I suppose you know the way back to the guest quarters from here?” Dwalin asked.

“Yes, I do, but...”

“Well then, I still have some studying to do. It was a pleasure, Lady Tauriel,” Dwalin said as earnestly as he could and bowed.

“Same here, Grumpypants Smoochyface,” she replied. “Maybe we could repeat...”

She trailed off. Dwalin had already disappeared around the corner and slipped into one of the secret passageways.

“Grumpypants Smoochyface? Where are you?” He could hear her calling, but he tiptoed away as quietly as he could. He tore the flowers and weeds from his hair as he went, but when he arrived home and looked into the mirror hanging in the hall, he saw a pink flower still clinging to his hair, looking quite a bit worse for the wear.

He barely managed to pull it out and hide it behind his back before Balin emerged from the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re back! Did you have a nice time with Tauriel? I think she’s quite a nice girl, especially for an elf.”

Dwalin scowled. 

“Did she beat you in practice?” Balin asked grinning. “I told you she’s good. There’s no need to be upset about it.”

“It was fine.”

Balin sniffed. “Are you ill? You smell of healer Sigrun’s stomach tea.”

“I’m fine,” Dwalin replied and stalked off to his room where he spent the next hour trying to scrub the stench from his hair.

 

Two evenings later, Fundin patted Dwalin on the shoulder when he came home.

“I’m proud of you, Dwalin. Lady Tauriel really enjoyed playing with you the other day. King Thranduil came over to me after the negotiations today to ask if you two could play together again tomorrow.”

“You said no, didn’t you?” Dwalin asked, pure horror rising up inside him.

Fundin looked at him in surprise. “You said nothing negative about playing with her, so I assumed you just hadn’t wanted to admit you actually had fun. Eiki and Vígdís also said you had seemed like you were enjoying yourself when they saw the two of you.”

“They were just trying to get back at me for...” Dwalin bit his tongue just in time. “Never mind. But I won’t play with her! Amad said it was just once! I’ve already earned my axe!”

“Yes, you have, but I already told King Thranduil that you and his ward could play together tomorrow afternoon. I can’t just say no now. Besides, they are King Thrór’s guests and you know how important it is to keep guests comfortable. Playing with her can’t have been that horrible, can it?”

Dwalin huffed. “I don’t want to.”

“Please, Dwalin. It will be the last time; they are leaving the morning after tomorrow’s farewell feast. And I have a hard time imagining it was that horrible for you when she enjoyed it so much.”

It seemed there was no getting out of this. Dwalin sighed in defeat. “Alright, I’ll do it. But only if I get another axe for it.”

“Another axe? Why would you want two axes? That is rather unpractical.”

“Lofvari from the old legends fought with two axes! I don’t see why I can’t too. I earned myself an axe playing with her that first time, I want a second one for playing with her again. I won’t do this otherwise.”

“You know you will have to relearn how to fight if you want to fight with two axes?” Fundin asked.

Dwalin nodded.

“Alright, I’ll make you two axes if you play nicely with her. But I don’t want one of them to gather dust in the corner, is that clear? If you have doubts, we can always talk about a different reward.”

Dwalin grinned, trying not to think about the torments he would have to endure to get his second axe.

 

Tauriel beamed when she saw him.

“Grumpypants Smoochyface! You’re here!”

“My name is still Dwalin, in case you had forgotten,” Dwalin said between clenched teeth. 

“Oh, right. I was afraid you wouldn’t come. Where did you go to last time? You suddenly disappeared.”

“Did I? I remember bidding you farewell... But never mind that, what do you want to do today?” Dwalin asked, already preparing for the worst.

“Why don’t we go to the sparring hall this time,” Tauriel said. “I want to see if you are any good.”

Dwalin happily agreed. And proceeded to get beaten up by her, no matter how hard he tried to defeat her. At least he didn’t have any weed stuck in his hair, Dwalin consoled himself. 

“In Mirkwood, we would take a bath in the warm pools now,” Tauriel said when they decided to call it a day. “But I don’t suppose you have anything like that here in Erebor.”

Dwalin thought about protesting and showing her the gigantic public baths in the lower levels, but he stopped himself just in time. “We do have a mountain pond. It is a bit cool, but I’m sure that won’t stop you.”

“Of course not,” Tauriel declared. “Show me the way.”

Dwalin led her out of the mountain and up the winding path. He shuddered as she eyed the flowers growing by the side of the path, but she didn’t stop or say anything.

Before long, they came to the mountain pond. The turquoise water shone out from the grey of the stones and pebbles. A group of mountain goats stared at them, then disappeared behind the next rise.

“Race you in,” Dwalin declared, pulling off his boots extra clumsily, followed by his overcoat.

Tauriel quickly followed suit, stripping off her clothes as she ran towards the water. Dwalin stumbled and tripped, making sure she won the race.

Tauriel barrelled into the water and then froze, her eyes widening at the freezing cold water straight from the small glacier towards the top of Erebor. She recovered quickly, jumping up and down in the water to stay warm.

“What’s wrong?” She called to Dwalin who was still standing on the shore. “Are you afraid of a little cold water?”

Dwalin didn’t want to show cowardice before her, so he barged into the water as well, making sure to splash her as he did and gasping as the cold water embraced him. Of course, Tauriel retaliated and soon, they were splashing each other with the icy water and trying to dunk each other under.

It didn’t take long before they started shivering, their hands and feet shrivelled and their lips turned blue, but neither of them wanted to admit defeat before the other.

In the end, they both left the water at the same time and let themselves dry on one of the rocks in the warm evening sunshine. 

“That was refreshing,” Tauriel said, combing her hair. “It was barely cold at all.”

“You were shivering! And your lips are still blue!” Dwalin protested. 

“Well, so are yours and you shivered more!”

“Are not!”

“They are! And now be quiet and let me comb your hair or it will become even more of a mess than it already is. And you won’t get whatever reward your father promised you this time.”

“I’m getting an axe,” Dwalin said as Tauriel attacked his hair with her comb.

“I thought you had already earned yourself one? Or aren’t you very good at negotiating to get what you want?”

“I am getting a _second_ axe,” Dwalin clarified. 

Tauriel wrinkled her nose. “What would you need a second axe for?”

“For fighting, of course,” Dwalin said. “Some of the greatest dwarven warriors fought with two axes.”

“That’s stupid.”

Dwalin thought of his two axes and the heroic deeds he would achieve with them and decided not to take her bait. He became so lost in thought about becoming a great warrior that he was too late in noticing that she was braiding his hair again, plucking flowers from the plants beside the rock as she went.

“Do you always have to do that?” He asked, already close to accepting his fate.

“Make you look pretty?” Tauriel said. “Yes, for a matter of fact, I do. Now hold still.”

Dwalin sighed and did as told.

 

They had passed the laughing guards and were well into the mountain when Balin came running towards them.

“Finally, there you are! I’ve looking everywhere for you two!” Balin exclaimed. “I am so glad I found you. Amad was afraid you might be accused of kidnapping Lady Tauriel if you didn’t return soon. And that after King Thranduil made sure we could sit at the main table to keep Lady Tauriel company.”

“But we weren’t even gone that long,” Dwalin said. “And believe me, I would never kidnap Lady Tauriel.”

“The feast is about to start,” Balin replied. “We need to head to the Great Hall right away.”

“Shouldn’t we get changed first?” Tauriel asked and Dwalin could have kissed her for it.

“You look wonderful as always, Lady Tauriel. I’m sure that dress will be just fine,” Balin said.

/I can’t go like this!/ Dwalin signed in Iglishmêk. /I have _flowers_ braided into my hair! In _elvish_ braids!/

/You’ll survive./ Balin signed back. “Now hurry up, you two!”

 

“Doesn’t he look cute, Thranduil?” Tauriel asked, making sure the pink flower above Dwalin’s right ear did not fall out. Any of Dwalin’s dislike for her that might have melted away throughout the afternoon returned immediately. Dwalin was uncomfortably aware of all the glances his elvish braids were getting from around the hall.

King Thranduil studied Dwalin for a moment as Legolas rolled his eyes. “He actually does. I especially love what you did with his hair.”

Dwalin felt his mother give him a kick under the table. /Stop scowling,/ her hands flashed in Iglishmêk.

Dwalin made his best effort to smile.

King Thranduil blinked and stared at him more intently. “Are those dimples? He’s adorable!”

Dwalin got another kick under the table.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Dwalin whispered, his ears burning in shame.

“Oh, and so polite,” Thranduil said. “At least for a dwarf.”

“He’s not bad in the sparring hall either,” Tauriel said. “He almost beat me, even though he fights with an axe.” Her pronunciation of his weapon was so derisive that Dwalin had to bite his lips in order not to say anything rude, but he managed to stay silent and keep his face friendly. Perhaps he should ask his father for another reward.

“Can I keep him?” Tauriel asked.

Thranduil laughed, clearly embarrassed by his ward’s question. “Tauriel, what did I tell you when you wanted to keep that nest of baby birds last year?”

“I can’t,” Tauriel said, pouting. “They want to fly into the forest because wild animals belong into the wild.”

“Exactly. It is just the same with dwarves. They belong in the mountain, so you can’t just take them home with you. You know what? I’ll get you a real horse when we return to Mirkwood. Does that sound good?”

Tauriel thought about it for a bit and then nodded. Dwalin bristled about being compared to a brainless bird, but his Amad and Adad were still smiling, even though their eyes had gone quite cold, so Dwalin kept smiling too.

King Thranduil turned to Dwalin’s mother. “I do apologise, Lady Embla. She has a rather active imagination.”

Dwalin’s mother laughed a very strange-sounding laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, your majesty! I know what it’s like. Dwalin has quite an imagination too.”

Dwalin stared at her. There were many things he had been called, but imaginative had never been one of them. On the contrary, his mother had often praised him for his rock-solid sense for practicalities, just the way a dwarf should be.

He was torn out of his thoughts by another kick, this time from Balin. /Just go with it. Whatever pleases the elf./

Dwalin plastered a smile back on his face. To his relief, the conversation soon moved on to other topics.

Certain that the elf king’s attention was no longer on him, Dwalin tried to exchange glances with Thorin, but Thorin was looking straight ahead, as if he were an image from a book on manners descended into reality. Even Frerin and little Dís were sitting perfectly straight and well-behaved in their uncomfortable ceremonial garb.

 

“I think I now understand every complaint you’ve ever made about elves,” Dwalin said to Thorin the following afternoon. The delegation from Mirkwood had departed that morning so Thorin was finally free to have more time for himself again. “They really are as awful as you always said they were.”

“Actually, I was about to say I hadn’t quite realised just how awful elves are before yesterday evening. That elf-girl was a special kind of evil. Putting flowers into a dwarf’s hair... that is just beyond awful.”

“Well, I’m the beardless fool of fools who allowed her to do so,” Dwalin said miserably. “I’ve had everybody from the cook over the guards to my own friends laughing at me.”

“Showing up like that at the feast proved you have more courage than most of them,” Thorin said. “Besides, they’ll forget about it soon enough and you will get two axes out of it. Nobody will laugh once you are as great as Lofvari Twoaxe was.”

Dwalin grinned. “Let’s hope I become at least a fraction as great as he was. Then it will all have been worth it. I still can’t believe that orc-faced Elvenking compared us to witless animals!”

Thorin glanced around them to make sure they really were alone and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think he will regret it or already does. I managed to sneak some essence of running root into his wine last night, and into some of the supplies for their journey home.”

Dwalin’s eyes went wide. “If anyone had caught you...”

“They might have accused me of trying to poison him, I know. I would have drunk the wine myself and suffered the effects in silence. Did you see how tired he looked this morning?”

“As if he had spent the entire night on the privy instead of in bed,” Dwalin chuckled. “And he looked rather eager to have the farewell ceremony come to an end too.”

“Can you imagine that elegant, oh-so-flawless Elvenking jumping off his horse every half hour to use the nearest bushes as a privy?”

Just the thought had them collapsing into helpless fits of laughter.

 

There was talk of another trade agreement between Erebor and Mirkwood several years later. Dwalin shaved the sides of his head to make sure that if there was a sudden invasion of elves, Tauriel would not be able to put her favourite braids into his hair. He kept his ears open and when the rumours intensified, he asked Thorin about them.

“Yes, Sigin’adad wants to expand the trade between our kingdoms by adding a few more areas of trade,” Thorin replied. “King Thranduil is likely to agree to negotiations and the meeting will probably start two days after the beginning of autumn, but we won’t officially announce it until we have King Thranduil’s definite answer.”

“Haugi’s trade caravan to the Iron Hills leaves shortly before the beginning of autumn. Could you please assign me to guard duty accompanying it?” Dwalin asked.

“Are you trying to avoid that elf-girl? She will be older and less annoying now and I doubt she’ll even remember you. I doubt this will be necessary.”

“Elves age more slowly than we do. I don’t want to take the chance. If I didn’t feel this was necessary, I wouldn’t be bothering you with it.”

Thorin nodded. “If you want to go, I’ll see what I can do, even though I still doubt it will be necessary.”

“Thank you,” Dwalin said, relieved.

Dwalin endured quite a bit of ridicule from some of his friends and relatives for running from an elf-girl, but he didn’t care. He did not want to know what torments Tauriel might come up with this time.

“She asked for you,” Thorin told him in a hushed tone after Dwalin returned from the Iron Hills. “You were right to leave. I don’t know why she has it in for you that way.”

Dwalin shuddered.

“But on the bright side, King Thranduil seemed quite wary of dwarven food this time around and actually went out of his way not to be rude. I think the running root really did its job.”

They both burst into laughter.

 

Dwalin pored over the map. 

“Which route do you intend to take?” He asked Thorin. 

“Through the Shire, along the Great East Road, over the Misty Mountains travelling the High Pass, across the Anduin using the Old Ford and then along the Old Forest Road and north towards Erebor. In other words, nothing that will cause any larger detours if we can help it.”

Dwalin ran his finger across the map following the route Thorin had described. He tapped his finger in certain places.

“We are likely to run into elves, aren’t we?”

“I hope not,” Thorin said between clenched teeth. “I certainly don’t intend to pay them a visit.”

“But we can’t rule out that we might have an encounter with them,” Dwalin pointed out. “There are said to be elves close to the Misty Mountains by the Great East Road and there are definitely elves in Mirkwood, though I think they live further to the north than the Old Forest Road.”

“No, we can’t exclude the possibility that we might meet elves along the way, but we’ll try to avoid them in every way possible. So don’t worry.”

That evening, Dwalin shaved the top of his head entirely, just to make sure.

 

Dwalin did his very best to be as rude as possible in Rivendell. After all, he didn’t want anybody to take him for cute. To his horror, Lord Elrond only seemed to smile at his rudeness while he kept his face carefully neutral at the other dwarves’ rude comments.

The other elves seemed rather taken with him too, but it had its upsides. Dwalin found his plate piled high with the less awful things the elves deemed fit to eat and when it was time for dessert, he got at least twice as much as the other dwarves from the elf serving them. He also got a pat on the head, which was rather less pleasant. 

“Why do you get more pudding than we do?” Kíli asked, staring at the mountain of dessert Dwalin was digging into.

Dwalin shrugged, hoping to avoid further questions. Unfortunately, Balin had other ideas.

“They think he’s adorable,” Balin said with a grin. “He really was cute when he was little, at least when he wasn’t being a pest, but somehow, elves still think he is. Whenever we ran into elves during our travels, they were smitten by him. There were quite a few that wanted to adopt him as a pet.”

“Dwalin?” Kíli asked, snorting pudding out of his nose. “Adorable?”

“That’s not true,” Dwalin ground out. “Balin is making that up.”

“Am I?” Balin asked, raising an eyebrow. “What about the time that group of travelling elves joined us for a few days and you woke up to find that one elf cuddling you like a teddy bear?”

“He was drunk out of his mind!” Dwalin said. “He just grabbed the dwarf closest to him.”

“And what about that elven salesman that always sells you things at half the price everyone else gets them?” Balin pointed out.

“I may have helped him out in a sticky situation involving bandits once,” Dwalin said, remembering doing nothing of the like. 

“Did you save that group of elves from bandits too?” Balin asked, gesturing towards a gaggle of young elves standing around, looking at Dwalin and whispering.

Dwalin scowled, but they only seemed to see it as an invitation to come closer.

“Do you see his cheeks?” One of them asked the others. 

“Just look at his beard!” Another cooed. “It is as if his hair just slid one story lower.”

“And the tattoos on his head just make him even cuter,” a third said.

“He’s just adorable!” The first one said.

“I. Am. Not. Adorable,” Dwalin growled.

“Aw, did you hear that?” They patted his head and pinched his cheeks. “Do you think Lord Elrond will mind if he stays here?”

“I’m not staying here! Now leave me alone or I’ll put my axes through your necks!” Dwalin yelled as he was lifted from his seat.

“Put him down!” Thorin shouted, standing up. “He’s ours and we aren’t leaving him here! Go bother some of your own people!”

Reluctantly, they set Dwalin back on his seat. “There’s no need to get so testy about it, Master Thorin. It was just a suggestion. After all, he is far too cute to be out facing the dangers of the wild.”

Dwalin scowled, his face burning with humiliation. And just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he heard Kíli whispering to Fíli.  
“Do you think he would teach me how to do that? I wouldn’t mind that one on the right lifting me onto her lap and cuddling with me.”

 

His head still spinning from the spider venom, Dwalin looked up. He froze. 

Standing in front of him with an unnaturally wide grin was a red-haired elf.

“Hello Grumpypants Smoochyface,” she said, scrutinising him. “How nice of you to finally visit me! It has been such a long time. It’s a shame about your hair, but don’t worry, you are still adorable.” She bent down to pinch his cheek and rub the top of his head.

Dwalin groaned and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, she was gone and for a brief moment, Dwalin hoped she had been a vision caused by the spider venom.

“Do you know her?” Bofur asked, tearing away Dwalin’s last shred of hope that he might have hallucinated her. “Perhaps that will help us get out.”

“What did she call you?” Fíli asked. “Did she really say...”

Nori was bending over laughing. “That was you! I’d heard the story of that poor tortured lad, but I never imagined... Oh lads, wait till you hear the story!”

Dwalin wished the mouldy leaves on the ground on the ground would swallow him up. Being held captive by the elves would be so much worse than he had ever imagined. 

“Mahal, what have I done to deserve this?”


End file.
